


Insolent and Out of Character

by keyboardclicks



Category: This Body's Not Big Enough for Both of Us - Edgar Cantero
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, M/M, Marijuana, Other, Pre-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, complicated feelings, zooey's not there she's asleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 20:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyboardclicks/pseuds/keyboardclicks
Summary: Aside from "murderously angry with my sister", Big Emotions have never been something Adrian excelled at.So when he has them, they're a little overwhelming.





	Insolent and Out of Character

On an unimportant day, at an unimportant time, an unimportant car cruised down an unimportant California road. The car carried Danny Mojave, SFPD, and A.Z. Kimrean, Private Eyes, away from a McDonalds drive though and towards an empty parking lot where they could eat in peace without having to suffer the stifling 100 degree weather for even a second.

And where nobody would notice or care that both of them were smoking joints.

“So, run this by me again,” said Mojave. “You take a pill, and Zooey just… falls asleep? Just like that?”

“It’s an injection, not a pill but yeah, pretty much.” Adrian, bored of having explained this three times since getting in the car, reached into one of the fast food bags and pulled out a small fistfull of fries, shoving them into his mouth. Not caring that his mouth was full, he added, “Diactarol’s one hell of a drug.”

“So she’s out now?”

“That’s why she didn’t comment on how defined your pecs look in that shirt.” _(Seeing Danny’s expression.)_ “You were waiting for a compliment when I got in the car and looked disappointed when I didn’t deliver. Never seen you in that shirt before, so that’s gotta be it. Sorry for the bad timing.” _(Takes another handful of fries.)_

Danny was still catching up with the information. He had known Adrian and Zooey for the better part of six months now and they continued to be the most confusing creature(s) he had ever encountered. The news that, essentially at will, Adrian could turn his sister off was just another weird thing to add to the list.

“Why don’t you just keep her asleep all the time?” The curiosity forced its way forward and out of Danny’s mouth.

“It’s probably a human rights violation,” Adrian provided, then looked over at Danny through a strangely focused green eye. “Besides, I thought you _liked_ Zooey.”

“I _like_ both of you. But there hasn’t been one time I’ve seen the two of you that you weren’t fighting. I would’ve thought you’d just keep her knocked out to save yourself the trouble. But you’re probably right about the human rights thing.”

“That and I’m afraid she’ll develop a tolerance. Or an addiction. Not sure which would be worse.”

Danny laughed and reached for the McDonalds bag near the gear shift, and found only a couple of sad slides of potato at the bottom of what had once been a glorious mountain of french fries. He glared at Adrian who, in response, continued chewing like a cow: lazily and with no remorse.

“It’s weird not having her around,” admitted Mojave, taking his second snack option of a big mack out of its cardboard casing. “Not a bad weird- don’t get me wrong, I like being around her, but she’s kind of…” 

“An insane bitch? A menace? A danger to herself and others?”

“I was gonna say a handful but sure, that works too.”

Kimrean huffed a “not really a laugh” laugh and took another hit of the joint from the ashtray perched on the center console. The smoke curled around him when he exhaled, and the warm California sunlight through the windows turned his straw-colored hair into different shades of gold and yellow and light brown and _Jesus Christ, Danny, come back to Earth!_

Mojave flicked his gaze back out the front windshield, wrapping his lips around the straw of his chocolate milkshake to divert attention, but the damage was already done. Adrian turned to face him, and waited with the patient, contemplative stare of every psychiatrist who had ever encountered the being that was A.Z. Kimrean.

“Do you really need me to state the obvious and say that you keep staring at me or are we intelligent enough to just skip that step of whatever’s going on?”

_(Beat.)_

_(Danny lowers his milkshake into a cupholder and looks everywhere but at Adrian for as long as possible, but eventually has no choice.)_

“Okay. Feel free to tell me to fuck off but… is it okay if I kiss you?”

Adrian blinked. Eyebrows previously hidden under bangs came down to shade their respective eyes.

“Seriously? Are we teenagers? Do I gotta have you back by ten so your daddy can threaten me with a shotgun?”

“Fuck you!” _(Scrubs his face, helpless in the face of his own confused desires.)_ “Like I said, we don’t have to. Just thought I’d ask because I’m pretty sure it’s always Zooey I’m doing it with, and I wanna make sure you know that I’m serious when I say I like both of you, not just her.”

Adrian blinked, then stared, then said, “Yeah, sure, fuck it, c’mere,” and pulled Danny in by his tie.

Describing people kissing is a generally difficult task, because in words it consistently sounds like a strange, gross, and unpleasant interaction of lips and teeth and tongue that if an alien were to read about they would wonder what the everloving fuck was wrong with humans that made them want to engage in such an activity. In reality, though, kissing can bring forward an abundance of pleasant emotions, especially if the people involved have a particular fondness for each other, and this was the case for Danny. Although he had kissed Kimrean plenty _(plenty_ ) of times before, it had always been Zooey at the wheel. Without the need for vast descriptors, Adrian was a different, more subdued participant in the activity, and Danny liked it.

The introduction of the back of his head to the interior of his driver’s side door, however, was not nearly as pleasant.

A constellation of stars ignited in his vision milliseconds after he was pushed violently back by his shoulders, obscuring his vision to only pinpricks of clarity. Through those he saw a Private Eye-shaped blur scoot away, hands on his knees, taking small, rapid breaths.

“Jesus, Aid, what the fu-”

“Shut up. Don’t talk.”

“Wh-”

“ _Shut up!”_

He shut up, and took the slot of silence to blink the stars into the corners of his retinas. As his vision cleared he got a better look at Kimrean’s strange silhouette, now hunched in his passenger’s seat. Elbows rested on knees, hands on head with fingers tugging at hair. Spread legs and too long arms, all ball-jointed gave the impression of something wicked to be seen only by the flashes of light in a haunted house.

Danny, _concerned_ : Shit, are you sick? Do you want me to take you home?

Adrian: No, I just- _(Sniffles, wipes nose on arm.)_ Just… shut the fuck up and give me a minute. And don’t touch me.

Danny retracted the hand he had been extending for an as yet undetermined “I’ll help you feel better” gesture, and was silently glad that he didn’t need to figure out what he was supposed to do. He let the allotted minute pass, then two, then five without saying a word about the fact that Adrian Kimrean was crying and this was a _very_ bizarre situation. After seven minutes the situation was starting to pass from concerning to awkward, and Danny once again had to ask, “Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

“Yes,” Adrian snapped, “because okay people regularly have panic attacks for no reason in someone else’s car.” 

(This sentence should be read with an appropriate level of sarcasm, but also with the random punctuation that comes with the gasps and hiccups of crying, which have been left out of the transcription for the sake of clarity as well as Adrian’s dignity.)

Danny, hesitantly: Okaaaaaay… Do you wanna talk about it..?

Adrian: No. I want you to forget this happened because it’s stupid.

Danny: You sound like a kid. If it made you cry then it’s not stupid.

Adrian. Psh. Please. Zooey cries over stupid shit all the time.

Danny paused. He _had_ once witnessed Zooey bursting into tears because an ice cream parlor didn’t have any mint chocolate chip.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Maybe it’s stupid. But you can still tell me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I have the keys to the car and unless you wanna get out and walk home in 104 degree weather I’d start talking.”

Adrian groaned and ragdolled in his seat. “You’re gonna hold the car for ransom unless I tell you? Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“You _are_ a cop.” 

Danny barely suppressed a chuckle, and Kimrean hoisted himself back up into the seat. His breathing had mostly gone back to normal.

“Ugh,” he eventually grunted, “big feelings are normally Zooey’s thing, fuck.” He scratched his hair, having long since lost his hat, then he shook his head, smacked himself on the cheek a couple of times, did a few more things while formulating a plan to get out of this without being forced into an Emotional Conversation, but ultimately realized that Mojave had put the keys into his left pocket and there was no way short of a wrestling match (which Adrian would lose) to get them back and if Danny didn’t start the car again in less than five minutes it was going to become a fucking oven. He was trapped.

“Fine, you wanna know what it is?” The mannequin stared hard at the dashboard. “It’s you, Danny. You’re what’s wrong. Fucking… you.”

“I-”

“Shut up.” He rubbed his side of the face, then Zooey’s. “Zooey and I have been fighting to be seen since we were born. She’s why I’ve never been able to have a normal life, why I can never have anything to myself, even my thoughts. It took over seventeen years for someone to finally fucking listen to us and figure out that it wasn’t _me_ who was blowing guys in truck stops, wasn’t _me_ who had a drinking problem, wasn’t _me_ who found a way to smuggle crack cocaine into a rehab facility, it was _her_. And even now I can still count on my fucking hand the number of people who can tell the two of us apart at a given moment. You wanna know how many that is?”

He held up his hand, two fingers extended in an angry looking peace sign. “Two, Danny. It’s Gwen, and it’s you. And I don’t fucking know what to do with that.”

Danny searched for words in the ether between them, lost for even an idea of what to say. “I’m sorry” felt inadequate, but it was what came out.

“You should be,” bit Adrian. “Why’d you have to go and make me like you? Zooey? Fine, whatever, she likes everybody. But this shit isn’t supposed to be my problem.”

“Hey, I didn’t make you do anything. You got roped in by my natural charm.”

That got a smile out of both of them, though Adrian’s was utterly imperceptible. And it might have been sarcastic.

“Nobody ever sees just me, Danny,” he sighed. His voice was quiet in a way Danny got the feeling not many people had ever heard. Almost vulnerable. The world outside of that car could have disappeared and Danny wouldn’t even have noticed, caught on the edges of every word that passed through Adrian’s lips. “It’s always A.Z., or Adrian and Zooey, or Kimrean, but it’s never, ever just me. People can meet me and not even know I exist. Can you imagine what that feels like?”

Danny shook his head. Of course he couldn’t. Who could?

“And I’ve gotten used to it, but now I have you and it’s _like holy shit, someone who can tell the difference_ and I don’t want to lose it.” Adrian swallowed, small adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “Fuck, why did it have to be you who pulled us over?”

Danny, _with the tone of someone who has had this argument too many times:_ Because there was a goddamn llama in your driver’s seat and I needed to make sure nobody was gonna die!

Adrian: We were _fine._

Danny: You were _not_ fine! You nearly got T-boned by a subaru!

Adrian glared at Danny. Danny glared at Adrian. The sun glared down onto both of them through every window of the car. A hawk screeched somewhere off camera to signal that a standoff had begun. Black eyes stared evenly at brown and green heterochromia, each with their own steely concentration. Kimrean’s mouth was dry. A bead of sweat trailed down Danny’s neck. 

Danny broke first. A small laugh made it through his nose, then caught in his throat, then he was full force laughing at the memory of Kimrean, arms stretched around the back of the driver’s seat and the confused camelidae occupying it to grip the steering wheel, legs wrapped around to somehow reach the pedals. The first thing Danny had mentally compared them to was an octopus. An octopus with four legs. A quadropus. 

As he tried to express this, Adrian began to laugh. This was not quite as rare as Adrian crying, but rare enough to merit the mention of its rareness. It was different from Danny’s full-bellied guffaw, broader and more breathy as if Adrian were trying to hide it behind all the other noise of the world. But it was impossible not to laugh when remembering how Danny, upon opening the driver’s side door, had been greeted with a face full of llama spit. 

It’s impossible to say how long they laughed. Until Danny’s stomach ached. Until Adrian had to dry tears of mirth from his cheeks. Until both of them forgot why they had been so upset just minutes earlier and the hawk which had signaled their Mexican Standoff had flown away in search of a new pair of duelists to observe. They relaxed, each took another hit from their joints because why the hell not, and settled back into conversation.

Adrian: I didn’t want to kiss you. I hate that shit, it’s gross. 

Danny, _trying not to be hurt_ : Then why did you?

Adrian: Seriously? I just gave a big emotional monologue about how I don’t want to lose one of the only people who can tell me apart from Zooey and you’re gonna ask me why I did something you wanted?

Danny: Well by your own logic you should know I don’t expect you to act the same as her so why would I expect you to do the same things?

_(Pause)_

Adrian stared, brain visibly processing to catch up with the argument and the fact that he had made a very, very dumb mistake. 

“...I’m blaming this entire conversation on the weed.”

Mojave laughed so hard that the danger of literally busting a gut presented itself. Adrian watched, more amused and less annoyed than he ought to have been. When he stopped, Danny wiped a tear from his eye, looked at Adrian and asked, “How long until Zooey wakes up?”

“What? Eager to get her back?” 

Danny hit him on the arm, but not too hard.

“It lasts about half a day. I took it this morning so I’d say around… six. Give or take.”

He nodded. “Got anything to do?”

“No.”

“Me neither. Wanna just… drive for a while? Said you never get time to just be you but… here you are. And here I am, and I know you’re you. Let’s just drive. Enjoy the nice day. Listen to some music. We don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to.”

Adrian looked at Danny. Looked at the gear shift. Looked out the window. Picked up his hat from where it had fallen on the floor, dusted it off, and replaced it on his head.

“That actually sounds fucking fantastic.”

They were doing 80 down the highway five minutes later, windows down, Adrian’s hand cutting through the jetstream, music blaring over the roar of the wind. It had blown the hat off their head and into the back seat, and now their hair blew in the wind like the ears of a golden retriever.

Danny saw this in the corner of his vision and smiled, left hand on the wheel and right resting on the center console. They were heading south. The sun blasted in through the passenger’s side window, just beginning to leave the zenith of its daily arc. 

Autoheart’s _Factories_ began blasting through the speakers. He imagined Zooey singing, off key from fighting to be heard over the wind. She loved this album. _Moscow_ was her favorite.

A thin, bony hand placed itself over Danny’s and slotted its fingers between his. Other than that, Adrian hadn’t moved, his gaze still fixated out the window.

Danny checked the time. 2:37.

He smiled, and made no acknowledgement. It would ruin it if he did. He just curled his fingers in response and held on, never looking away from the road.

A slight shaking of the hand minutes later concerned him enough to look, only to find Adrian laughing against a backdrop of blue sky and backlit by the yellow glow of the sun. The sight of it swallowed any coherent thoughts Danny had.

Adrian looked looked over and shook his head, yelling over the wind, “Zooey’s gonna give me so much shit for this later!”

Danny wasn’t sure what he meant; he’d only caught half of the sentence. But he smiled anyway, and barely pulled his attention back to the road to avoid swerving into oncoming traffic.

His right hand didn’t touch the wheel for the rest of the drive.


End file.
